


What Was Never Mine to Keep

by stellarmeadow



Series: Season 4 Codas/Missing Scenes [19]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 04:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1455943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmeadow/pseuds/stellarmeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it takes a building falling on your head to see things more clearly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Was Never Mine to Keep

**Author's Note:**

> Agh, this took me forever! I really hope you enjoy it, because the episode itself is a masterpiece. It took me so long to write because I wanted to do it justice and fit it properly into the series. 
> 
> Title is from Christina Perri's "Trust":
> 
>  _And I’m so quick to lose what was never mine to keep_  
>  _And I cannot stand on what’s broken under me_  
>  _And I don’t know how to forgive myself for everything_  
>  _But I must learn trust_  
> 
> Spoilers all over the place from 4.19. You've been warned!

Steve tried not to stare at Danny. Which was relatively common these days--he did his best not to stare because he didn't want it to be obvious to anyone else that he was not quite as okay with the idea of the two of them being over before they really got a chance to start as he pretended to be. Or have anyone guessing that they even tried to start. 

Mostly he just wanted Danny to be happy, and if Steve stared too much, Danny would notice. And Danny was not stupid.

But this particular time he was trying not to stare because, despite participating in their review of the Kokua case that was about to go to trial, Danny was doing a terrible job of hiding that he was checking his watch every thirty seconds. From the glances Kono and Chin were giving them both, he could tell they noticed, and assumed it had something to do with Steve. 

Finally Steve stopped and fixed Danny with a look. "Do you need to be somewhere?"

"What?"

"You keep looking at your watch. Are we keeping you from something?" Steve knew he didn't need to pick up Grace, because she wasn't coming back from Rachel's until later tomorrow. Which didn't leave a lot of other options, and the most obvious one Steve didn't really want to think about.

Danny shook his head. "No. Nope. Not at all."

Kono snickered. "Yeah, that's believable. What's the matter, Danny, got a hot date?" Danny turned red, and Kono laughed. "You do! You have a hot date!"

"I really don't think my love life is going to come up at the Kokua trial."

Steve's stomach twisted a little at the way Danny casually referred to Amber as his 'love life,' even if Steve knew he didn't have a right to be bothered. He'd had his chance. And he wanted Danny to be happy. If Amber made him happy, then great.

And maybe once he could even believe his own bullshit he'd stop worrying about being obvious to everyone else.

"If you need to leave, Danny," Steve said, "then go."

"No, I'm fine. I'm just worried about getting home in time to get ready for...."

"Your date," Kono finished. 

Steve looked down at the computer table for a moment and cleared his throat. "I think we're pretty much done here anyway," he said, closing the file. "The case is solid." He glanced in Danny's direction. "Get out of here," he said, hoping his smile passed for sincere.

"Thanks. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Steve swiped the file off the desktop with more force than probably needed. "I'm gonna get out of here myself," he said, not quite looking Chin or Kono in the eyes. "See you in the morning."

Their quiet goodnights followed him out of the room.

***

"Danny?"

Amber's tone was the only reason Danny realized he'd clearly ignored something he should've responded to. "Sorry, what?"

"You're totally somewhere else tonight. You wanna call it a night?"

"No." He mentally kicked himself for letting his head get so wrapped up in Steve that he ignored the lovely, attainable and relatively sane person who was actually interested in him sitting right there. "Sorry, just...work."

She believed him, which was one of the things that made her so nice to be with. She didn't look closer, she didn't pry. She just took what he said at face value. It was comfortable, soothing, and not at all demanding. 

All things he needed in his life right now.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Nah, it's boring," he said, putting on his best charming smile. He could do this. He could block Steve out of his head and enjoy what was actually available.

He ignored Steve's laughter echoing in his head as he asked Amber what she'd been saying.

***

Steve pushed towards shore, enjoying the peacefulness that had settled into his body out on the ocean. One of the best things about moving back to Hawaii had been the ability to commune with the ocean on his terms. He'd forgotten how comforting it could be when he'd spent so much time landlocked with the Navy. 

As the shore drew near, he saw one of the other best things about Hawaii standing on the beach, waiting for him. Judging by the fidgety movements and pacing, Danny was feeling even less patient than usual. Maybe they had a case. A case would be good distraction, and he could use that.

Once he learned the real reason for Danny's impatience, Steve didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He went for laughter. "Seriously?" he said. "Grace caught her in the kitchen half dressed?"

"You think this is funny?"

"Well, I mean...." Steve gave up even trying to explain. "Yeah. It is." 

"My daughter's been scarred for life and you think it's funny. That's great."

Steve tried for logic, pointing out how the two of them were bound to meet, and absolutely not thinking about how much time Danny had spent with Amber lately, but Danny wasn't interested in logic. "The last thing I need," Danny said slowly, "is for Grace to get attached to another woman, okay? I mean, when Gabby took off, it really upset her, and I don't want to put her through that again." 

Steve hesitated, studying Danny for a moment, but he really looked like he believed what he was saying. "Uh-huh," Steve said at last, checking his phone to avoid looking at Danny.

"Uh-huh? What is 'uh-huh'? What does that mean?"

"Nothing," he tried, hoping his tone would just come off as distraction from his phone.

"Nononono, please, if you have something to say, just say it."

Steve was pretty sure if he ran back out with the paddle board Danny wouldn't follow. But Danny would wait on the beach, and Steve didn't think he could outlast him before he had to come back. "Okay," he said finally. "Maybe you should consider this is less about protecting Gracie, and more about protecting yourself."

"Protecting myself from what?"

"From getting into another serious relationship." Because Steve had had a lot of sleepless nights to think about it, and for all that Danny might have had a point about Catherine, he was awfully quick to end things to avoid the inevitable destruction he was sure would follow. 

"She's ten years younger than me. What am I gonna do?"

"Danny, if she was the same age as you, you would come up with a different excuse, whatever you need, because you can't be happy. It's impossible for you. It's not in your DNA."

There was a fine line between that assessment and Steve's real thought--which was more that Danny was afraid of getting hurt than that he couldn't be happy. But that might open up a can of worms Steve wasn't prepared to deal with. 

"Wow. Well, I don't know what I was doing coming here and getting relationship advice from you. What do you know?" 

_I know you._ Steve didn't let that thought past his brain. "I know people."

His phone rang while Danny was making a joke, and Steve answered it gratefully, resolving to stay the hell out of Danny's love life, if only to avoid the reminders of how much he wanted to be Danny's love life. 

He couldn't. They had other people in their lives, and they'd made their choices. Danny clearly had, if he was parading a half-naked girlfriend (the word absolutely was not difficult to even think, Steve told himself) around his house the morning after. They'd both chosen safer paths, and that was fine. That was good. 

Steve kept telling himself that all the way to Halawa.

***

Steve's first thought when he woke up after the blast was to wonder if his head was still on his shoulders. From the way it felt and sounded, he wasn't sure. 

Once he'd established it was, in fact, still there, he went straight to his next thought.

"Danny!"

No response.

"Danny!" He searched, calling out a few times, but all he found were legs that were not Danny's. The legs belonged to their tied up business man, who was as dead as Steve's cell signal. 

Coughing nearby was the most welcome sound he'd heard all day. "Danny!" He kept calling as he stumbled over to where Danny's hand was sticking out from some rubble. Steve gripped Danny's hand for a moment, babbling something before he started moving the concrete off Danny's body. 

Considering the blast, he was grateful when Danny's biggest problems appeared to be a broken rib a pinned leg, and claustrophobia. He blamed the fact that he thought Danny combating claustrophobia with the 1986 Mets lineup adorable on relief at the fact Danny wasn't dead.

He let go of Danny's hand with difficulty, forcing himself to focus on the fact that he had to get Danny out from under the rubble.

***

Danny tried to breathe normally, eyes closed, thinking of the wide open spaces of Shea Stadium and an argument with his father over whether or not Strawberry would've been a better center fielder than Dykstra. 

Where the hell was Steve? Danny's mind helpfully supplied the image of Steve having been hit by falling debris, lying dead under a big slab of cement. He told it to shut the fuck up. 

He'd been so much happier when he'd woken up this morning, warm and sated, confused for a second about the smell of perfume before he remembered which morning it was and who he'd woken up with. 

He should've known that this was where his day would end up after that.

He shifted focus to the '92 Mets, hoping like hell that Steve got back soon, because if he had to start thinking about '93 he might've hit himself in the head with concrete intentionally to forget about that season.

Steve finally returned before that could happen, with another flashlight and something to get the giant cement block off Danny's leg. It required Danny to move, though, and he wasn't sure he could do it. 

He managed, but only just, feeling like a baseball bat had slammed through his stomach in the process. It was white hot pain and Danny wanted to curl in on himself and never move again, but Steve, fucking bastard that he is, wouldn't let him.

Danny wished he'd done it anyway, when he saw the piece of rebar sticking out of his body. So that's what hurt so bad, his mind--the part of it that's detached, studying the metal protruding from his flesh with clinical curiosity--supplied helpfully. He told it to fuck off in favor of embracing the rest of his brain, which was simply chanting 'Owowowfuckingfuckingfuckow!'

Steven Sadist McGarrett apparently didn't hear that chant--how he missed it when it was overpowering Danny's brain, Danny couldn't figure. "I gotta take it out," Steve said, like it's sane and logical. "The trick's gonna be to stop the bleeding."

"Maybe don't take it out, maybe we just leave it in for a bit," Danny said hopefully, but Steve was already ripping off Danny's vest and moving forward without asking Danny's permission, just like always. Everything on his terms and how he says and damn what hurts the hell out of anyone else. 

He shoved that aside in favor of surviving the latest McGarrett insanity, already trying to prepare himself for how much more pain he was about to be in. Steve said something about sepsis causing them real trouble, and Danny couldn't take it anymore, he laughed. Because that was hysterically funny (or possibly he was hysterical, though he'd take it if that's what it was). Because they weren't in trouble already. 

Steve, ever the helpful friend, was reminding him how much it's going to hurt, even as he was about to yank metal out of Danny's body and pour some kind of cleaning solution all over it. Why he was putting Danny through this when he was clearly going to die down there, Danny didn't know, except that Steve is a sadistic son of a bitch. 

"I'm not gonna lie to you, this is gonna hurt a lot." 

_Yeah, sure, tell me the truth about that, thanks._ And then he told Danny to stay conscious, just when he had been hoping that he'd pass out from the pain and wake up in a nice, comfy hospital bed. 

Danny was about to say wait, he was about to say it a lot, but Steve pulled, and what was a giant thorn in his side became a stabbing, slicing, agonizing pain. Before Danny could even finish processing that much pain, Steve set it on fire with the fucking cleaner, and Danny really wanted to pass out, wanted to die, wanted to do anything to make it fucking stop. 

Fucking Steve refused to even let him have oblivion, forcing him to stay awake, stay with him. Like Danny has ever been able to leave, no matter what he's tried? So Danny focused on the Mets, focused on Steve's hands instead of the pain in between them, and started to breathe again as it subsided from a fiery hell into just a wound that felt like it was about the size of Long Island, but at least it was no longer ripping his body in two. 

It stabbed him again when Steve helped him up. But he could do it. He could get up and get the hell out of there to a nice bed and a lot of nice antibiotics and especially some very lovely painkillers. 

He wondered if they can put morphine and dilaudid on a continuous drip in his arm for the next week. 

For the moment, though, adrenaline was doing the job, pushing him towards the exit. As soon as he knew which way that was.

"Which way?"

"We're not going anywhere, buddy," Steve said. "The place is caved in. We can't get out."

 _Then why the fuck did you just put me through that?_ Danny got a grip on himself. "Do me a favor, would you, please?" 

"Of course, whatever you need."

"Look at me in the eye and admit something to me. We should not have listened to Dekker, hmm?"

Steve being Steve, instead of just doing Danny the favor, he looked pissed. "You wanna do that now? It was a lead we had to follow, Danny, okay? And by the way, you're welcome for saving your life."

 _After putting it in danger in the first place?_ But Danny realized that was probably part of the problem, that Steve was blaming himself somewhere in his head for Danny's injury, and he was doing what he always does, shoving that aside and convincing himself that they had no choice and had to be there.

Which...Danny had to admit was true. To himself at least--it doesn't do any good to encourage Steve by admitting things like that to him. So when Steve gave him something to do, Danny did it without complaining. 

Steve might be an ass, but he's a lucky ass, so maybe that luck would rub off on Danny again.

***

Danny was going to be fine.

Steve kept telling himself that, sneaking glances at Danny where he was banging at various debris to make sure he didn't look like he was going to pass out or die. Which he wasn't, Steve reminded himself, because Danny was going to be fine.

The fear he'd had when he'd woken up and called for Danny and hadn't gotten an answer was still pumping his heart a little faster than he'd like, given the amount of oxygen they had. Random flashes of losing Freddie, of the phone call with his Dad, knowing he was going to die, they all combined to have one corner of his brain curled up in the fetal position exactly like the human that Danny accused him of not being.

He couldn't afford to be that human, though. When he was that human, people died. He had to be more. Had to do more.

Because he refused to lose Danny.

He'd let him go off with Amber and be happy and even make a dozen versions of Grace if that's what he wanted.

But he wouldn't lose him.

Especially not like this.

Danny thought Steve ignored fear, but Danny was wrong. If Steve ignored fear, he'd be with Danny. It had, apparently, taken a building literally falling on his head, but he realized it now. He could use Cath's needs as an excuse all he wanted, but the real reason he hadn't been able to stop using her as an excuse had been his own fear. 

Relationships led to loss, and the only way to avoid that agonizing pain was to have relationships that wouldn't rip you apart when you lost them.

No wonder he was able to spot that fear in Danny so easily. 

But Danny could conquer that fear. And he deserved to be happy. He just needed a little pushing to overcome that fear and he might actually have a chance at being happy with Amber, who was showing signs of being able to actually try to have something with Danny that Steve seemed unable to.

So Steve pushed, because that he was good at. He pointed out Danny's fear of everything, leaving out that Danny was utterly fearless when it came to throwing himself into danger. He just assumed the worst was going to happen when he did. Danny turned it around on him of course, because that was what Danny did, so Steve pushed harder.

"This morning you had a near mental break down because your girlfriend met your kid."

He hated just a little that Danny didn't flinch, didn't even blink at Steve calling Amber his girlfriend, even if it was exactly what Steve was pushing him into. But he was distracted from that thought by Danny's cough.

"You all right?" Steve asked, knowing the true answer, but hoping for a spark of optimism.

"No, I'm not all right," Danny said, getting up and pushing past Steve.

Steve felt that fear Danny accused him of not having clawing its way to the front of his brain. If Danny was actually admitting to that, it couldn't be good. "Listen, all right?" Steve said slowly, hoping to calm him, to keep the claustrophobia at bay, which would both use up more oxygen and cause Danny to bleed faster. "I'm sorry, okay? Just please relax. The air is getting thin in here. We need to conserve oxygen." He knew Danny would be better off if he slept, but they couldn't risk it. They couldn't risk the precious seconds it would take to wake him if something happened, good or bad.

Danny seemed to get a grip on the fear, though, despite Steve's accusations, or maybe because of them, who knew with Danny? Steve didn't realize Danny had decided to distract himself with investigating until Danny said something didn't sit right. Steve kept banging for help while Danny did an inventory of their victim. Everything pointed to the guy being unfortunate bait, but Danny was right--why him? Whoever did this went to so much trouble to set it up, including a camera to make sure they were there before blowing things up. Why this guy?

A ringing distracted him, and he thought for a second he might be hallucinating until Danny said, "Is that you?"

Steve realized he could feel the phone vibrating, too, and he pulled it out to see Catherine on the screen.

"It's Catherine," Steve said, hope finally pushing back the last of the fear.

They were going to get out of this.

***

They couldn't get out.

Steve had too much knowledge of what was going on not to understand what they weren't saying. The air was running out, and they couldn't get to the maintenance room in time. If Steve and Danny didn't get to that vent, they were dead.

Assuming trying to get to the vent didn't kill them first.

He saw how Catherine was trying to look like there was nothing wrong, but he could read her too well, too. She was running on hope and that was fading. He told her to make a reservation for that night, proof that he was convinced he was getting out of there.

He was surprised to see Amber there, and looking so worried. Somewhere in the back of his mind he'd thought Danny was more interested than she was, and that she would move on. He realized he'd been seeing her through Danny's eyes. Seeing her in person, though, he recognized that look on her face.

He was pretty sure it was the same one he had when Danny was in danger.

He handed over the phone, unable to resist touching Danny as he got up. Steve watched as Danny talked to Amber, the obvious affection on both sides leaving a sting in his eyes and a catch in his throat. He couldn't even look Danny's way anymore when Danny started talking to her about picking up Grace. 

"Tell her I'll talk to her right when I get home," Danny told Amber.

Steve stood up, game face on. "Come on, Danny," he said. "We need to get moving. You can talk to her when we get topside." Because they would get topside.

Failure was never an option.

***

Danny did his best to shoulder half the weight as they pushed, shoved and pulled their way through the rubble to the vent. He was aware Steve was trying to shoulder more, and he didn't complain, but he also didn't sit back and wait for him to do it. 

By the time he squeezed through a crack, grazing his side along the edge of it, though, he was about ready to ask Steve to just drag him the rest of the way. Something must have shown on Danny's face, because Steve said, "We work together, we'll get out of here, all right?"

Danny helped him move the next obstacle, even making a joke to show that he was fine. But he wasn't. And Steve knew it, which meant Steve decided to go for distraction.

Unfortunately the subject he chose wasn't exactly helpful. Because Steve talking Amber up to Danny was a bit like a steak telling him that the chicken was just fantastic. 

Funny how near death experiences cleared your head.

Danny knew what he wanted. But he also knew he couldn't have it, and it was time to resign himself to that fact. Besides, he liked chicken. Chicken was great. 

Chicken was also less likely to kill him with a heart attack. 

Danny agreed with Steve on Amber's merits, but couldn't help adding, "Yeah, I'll probably screw it up like I do everything else. Right? Not in my DNA to be happy." 

Steve's quick, "I didn't mean that. That's not what I meant," in that tone told Danny Steve really hadn't meant it, not entirely. 

Didn't mean it wasn't true. 

"No, I'm officially agreeing with you. There is something wrong with the way that I am built. I can't just enjoy happiness like regular people, you know?"

"You don't think you're being a little hard on yourself?"

Maybe if he'd seen this sooner and been a little harder on himself he might actually be happy now. "No, I don't," he said, because Steve needed to understand just how fucked up Danny really was. "When I was a kid, my parents would go out to eat dinner. If they were late coming home, I used to imagine that they died in a car wreck, just 'cause they were fifteen minutes late, and I used to talk to God and beg him, I said, 'Please just take my dad, not my mom,' 'cause I couldn't live without my mom. I mean, every time something good happens in my life, I-I just...I think of when it's gonna end. That's all I can think about."

He couldn't go any further, he had to stop for a second, so he twisted around painfully and looked at Steve, his face obscured by the flashlight he was shining in Danny's. "You for real?" Steve asked finally.

"Yeah." 

The light was lower, and he could see the disbelief in Steve's face, like he had some sort of monopoly on being completely fucked up. "That's not normal."

Which was rich, Steve lecturing him on how a normal brain worked. But then, takes one to know one. "I know it's not normal," Danny said softly. "Listen to this--on my wedding day, I'm looking at Rachel, just about to say, 'I do,' and all I can see is the day she's gonna serve me with divorce papers." 

Steve was still looking at him like he doesn't even know what to say to that. "No joke," Danny said. "And I...I don't know, man. The only sustained happiness I ever felt in my life so far is Grace, and you know, it's just a matter of time until she turns eighteen, and then she's out the door and she...marries some schmuck." He shook his head. "I don't know."

"You gotta change, man," Steve said. "You can't live like that."

Like he had any better idea of how to do that than Danny did? "Well, I'd like very much to change, it's just not so simple, you know?"

"Take Amber, all right? Start small. Instead of pushing her away, like you always do, or fixating on how she's gonna break your heart, she's gonna destroy your life...bring her in. Bring her closer."

He couldn't tell if Steve was wishing Danny had done that with him. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. That ship had sailed. "All right," Danny said, "I'll give it a shot."

"What?"

"I said I'll give it a shot. I make it out of here alive, I'll give it a shot."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really." _If only to show you that I can._

"That's good."

"Thank you." 

Which was the cue for the building to fall in a little more. Because apparently there was a God and he wasn't so amused that Danny kept saying he didn't exist. 

Or maybe his life really was just that unlucky.

Clearly it was one or the other, because Steve's next brilliant idea for getting them out was to blow the building up. Because apparently once wasn't enough. 

But it wasn't as if they had a lot of other options. So Danny sealed off the end of the pipe and handed it over, then watched as Steve took the powder from a grenade and poured it into the pipe in preparation to blow up the only thing keeping the rest of the building from falling on them. 

"This gonna work?" Danny asked.

Steve waited a long moment before replying, "I don't know."

Great. Mr. Optimistic Power of Positive Thinking couldn't even muster better than an 'I don't know.' Fantastic. 

Either they were going to die, or Danny was never going to be able to give Steve shit about carrying grenades again. 

He watched Steve put everything together as quickly and efficiently as he could, the speed only underlying the fact that this was pretty much their last chance. By the time Steve was ready to light the explosion, Danny had just about run out of positive thinking. "Hold on," he said. "Before we do this, I just want you to know one thing."

"What?"

He couldn't say what he really wanted. The words were there, but they stuck in his throat. So he said what he could. "Whatever happens, I really, really, from the bottom of my heart...hate you so much."

Steve laughed, understanding, of course--no matter what happened between them they got each other. It was why they worked together so well. 

"I love you too, pal."

The words sounded a hell of a lot more honest than Danny expected they were supposed to, and his stomach flipped a little at hearing them, even as he joked, "I guess there's a lot worse people to die under a big pile of concrete with, huh?"

And he was still hoping that Steve's luck would hold, but he had to admit there was truth in his joke as well. There was no one he'd rather be with if it had to end like this. 

And not just because it was Steve's fault they were there to begin with.

"You want to do the honors?" Steve asked, holding up the lighter.

"No, no. It's your stupid idea. You do it."

Danny looked away and tensed, covering his head as he waited to see if he was still alive in a minute. A few seconds later he felt Steve on top of him--of course, the big idiot, protecting him to the end. 

The explosion still rocked both of them, but they were alive when it was over. Steve rolled off him, and after a second, Danny turned to look, seeing a giant hole through the settling dust and smoke. 

No, better than just a giant hole. It was a giant hole with light on the other side, and a rope or something swinging from above, attached to what looked like a rescue harness.

He started laughing, turning to look at Steve who had joined in. "Guess it wasn't such a stupid idea after all," Danny said.

"Thank you for that ringing endorsement."

"You're welcome."

"Hey, Danno?"

"Yeah?"

"You are never allowed to say another word about my grenades again."

***

Steve had gotten so used to the thin air below ground that the oxygen topside made him almost dizzy. Though that might have been relief. It was hard to tell. He held onto Catherine tightly, all too aware that she had been instrumental in getting them out. 

Having hugged his whole team, Steve went to make sure Danny was getting stitched up. He found Danny not at the ambulance, though, but nearby, his arms full of Grace and Amber. Steve hesitated, not wanting to interrupt, but Danny saw him and waved him over to introduce him to Amber.

"Nice to finally meet you," he said, making it clear Danny had talked about her, as Grace threw herself against Steve. He hugged her tight, giving her a kiss on the top of her head before letting her go. She looked like she was none the worse for this latest trauma, remarkably. She was easily one of the most resilient kids he'd ever met, though he knew all too well how all this shit could come back to hit you decades later.

He watched he walk away with Amber, Grace obviously not bothered by that, either, before turning to Danny. 

"Well, if this is the power of positive thinking, I like it," Danny said. "It's good."

"You know, that's the same as you admitting I was right. But I don't want to put words in your mouth right now."

"When we were in there, you said, uh...you know, before you did the thing with the bomb, you said what you said, I want you to know, I...I feel the same way."

"How is that, exactly?"

"You gonna make me say it?"

Steve stared at him. Because hell yes, he was going to make him say it. He managed to get the words out. Danny could, too.

"Come here," Danny said, finally, pulling Steve into a hug. "I love you," he said against Steve's shoulder.

He didn't expect the words to hurt. They were everything he'd wanted to hear, but nothing in the way he wanted to hear them. "I love you, buddy," Steve said, because when would he get the chance to be that honest again without ramifications? 

Danny let him go too soon. "I gotta go get this properly stitched up," he said, holding a hand over his side. 

"Yeah, you should." 

"And I'm not coming in to work tomorrow. Or for the rest of the week."

"Good," Steve said. Because Danny needed the rest. And Steve needed a few days to stuff his feelings back down inside. 

" I'm taking Amber to Maui. Heal up over there, relax."

"Nice beaches over there."

"Nice beaches? I won't see a single one of them. All right?"

Steve absolutely didn't wonder what he'd be doing with Amber instead of seeing beaches. "Call me," was all he said, because he needed to at least know Danny was okay. 

He watched Danny walk away, his 'I love you' echoing in Steve's head. It didn't matter that he hadn't meant it the same way Steve did. He'd said it. That would be enough.

Steve had long ago gotten used to living with just enough.

***

Steve pulled into his driveway and shut off the engine, so tired he couldn't even see straight. He'd had a solid lead, and he'd lost it. At least he had a little more information, but fuck if he knew what to do with it. Sam was gone. Cobb was dead.

He couldn't exactly walk into the local CIA and just ask if anyone knew something about a forty year old case that had already almost gotten him killed. 

He also wasn't going to solve anything sitting in his truck, though. So he'd go inside, take a shower, and regroup. 

The front door was barely closed when Steve heard Danny's voice from the couch. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

Steve leaned back against the door, closing his eyes. "This isn't Maui," he said.

"No shit. The doctor told me I couldn't travel for at least two weeks. Said I had to heal some first before I tried carrying suitcases onto a bacteria-laden plane with six stitches in my side and abdominal muscles trying to stitch themselves back together below the skin." Danny paused to take a breath. "So that's what's the matter with me, now, I repeat, what the hell is the matter with you?"

Steve ventured a look over at the couch. Danny was leaning back, holding himself stiffly, but he wasn't wincing. "Did you drive over here on painkillers?"

"No, I didn't drive over here on pain killers--I can't even drive for a week. Amber dropped me off and took Grace home."

Steve ignored the pang at Danny relying on Amber so much more. It was exactly what Steve had told him to do. It was what Danny needed to do. "Why are you not at home resting?"

"Oh, I don't know, why did you go visit the guy who tried to kill us all by yourself and shoot him?"

 _Shit._ "Where did you hear that?"

"Are you kidding me? Half of HPD and two reporters texted me after the call went out."

He knew Danny was exaggerating, but he also suspected Danny wasn't exaggerating by much. "It's not a big deal," Steve said tiredly, walking over to the couch and sitting on the other end of it. 

"Not a big deal?" Danny turned carefully, glaring at Steve. "I talked to Chin. He told me the guy was behind the bombing. He also told me that when you found out the guy ran CIA black ops in Southeast Asia in the seventies, you said this wasn't about Five-O and ran off like a bat out of hell to, and I quote, 'Check something.' Which I happen to know, even if he doesn't, means this guy is probably the one who called you to warn you off after making Connors disappear, and that the answer to what does the CIA do when you thumb your nose at them? They drop a building on your head. But next thing Chin knows, you're calling to say you shot the guy." 

"Chin shouldn't have bothered you--"

"Excuse me? Chin shouldn't have bothered me?!" Danny winced as he yelled, making Steve feel guilty for causing it, for even causing him to come out when he should be resting. 

For causing the whole fucking bombing in the first place.

"I get," Danny said slowly, his voice low, "that you automatically revert back to your Army of One mentality when you are threatened. But in case you forgot, that guy tried to put me in the ground, too. At the very least, I deserve the courtesy of deciding whether or not I go with you to kill him for it."

"I didn't go over there meaning to kill him. I went to get answers."

"And let me guess, he gave you more questions before you shot him?"

Steve shook his head. "I found out who was in the grave."

That, at least, derailed Danny's anger for a moment. "Who?"

"Lei Kuan Fat."

"Wo Fat's father?"

Steve shook his head again. "Wo Fat's mother. Apparently my mother tried to kill Wo Fat's father, but she got his mother instead."

"Shit." Danny sunk back into the couch. "So all this time Wo Fat's been saying he was after the person who killed his father, he was really after the person who killed his mother?"

"I guess. I don't know."

"So that means your next stop is to talk to him, where you'll probably get nothing but attacked again?"

"Danny...."

"Here we go." Danny rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. No, on second thought," he said, waving a hand, "go ahead. I want to hear it."

Steve sighed. "This isn't your fight."

"The y dropped a building on me, too, Steven."

"Yes, and you have people who need you not to have that happen again."

"And I need you not to die," Danny said. "You have people who need you, too. What is it going to take to get that through that thick skull?"

Steve took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "There's really nothing I can say that's going to stop you from helping me, is there?"

"About fucking time you figured that out."

Steve eyed him for a moment. "Any chance if I promise not to do anything stupid tonight you'll go home and rest and we can pick this back up tomorrow?"

"The last time I believed you when you said that you ended up in jail for shooting the governor. What do you think?"

Steve shook his head, unable to completely hide a smile. "Okay, we'll make a plan, and then I'm taking you home to rest. Is that acceptable?"

"What is this, treaty negotiations?"

"No, the last treaty negotiations I saw weren't nearly this difficult."

Danny huffed a soft laugh, hand pressing into his side. "Okay, yes. That is acceptable. Thank you for asking."

"Good. I have just one caveat to the treaty, though."

"What?"

"Is it okay if I take a shower first? I'd really like a shower."

Danny laughed, ducking his head, and Steve could hear the echo of that 'I love you' in his head again. "Sure," Danny said. "Take your shower. I'll go pull out the tool box."

"Thanks." 

Steve ran for the stairs, intent on making the shower as quick as he could.

___

END

**Author's Note:**

> Want to learn more about me and my writing? Visit my page at <http://www.jamiemeadowswrites.com/>


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